


Last Christmas

by clubs14



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Aziraphale (Good Omens) as Santa Claus, Aziraphale finally feels the love, Christmas Decorations, Christmas Lights, Christmas Shopping, First Kiss, First Time, Letters to Santa, Mistletoe, Multi, Oral Sex, Satanic Nun, Sex in the Bentley (Good Omens), The Arrangement (Good Omens), Warlock likes Frozen, all the pronouns used for Crowley, but mostly she/her, non-binary Crowley, they're switches
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-21
Updated: 2021-02-14
Packaged: 2021-03-10 19:15:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 19,291
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28212258
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/clubs14/pseuds/clubs14
Summary: When a former Satanic nun joins the Dowling's staff it quickly turns everything on it's head. Crowley and Aziraphale try to balance out the extra bad influence with a bigger emphasis on Christmas and being good in exchange for presents. Or at least one present in particular.Or a take on why they lost their jobs with a Christmas vibe.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens), Harriet Dowling/Thaddeus J. Dowling, Nanny Ashtoreth/Brother Francis (Good Omens), OC/Thaddeus J. Dowling
Comments: 2
Kudos: 11





	1. Chapter 1

Anne had a very challenging time finding a new occupation following the destruction of St. Beryl. She had loved her time as a chattering satanic nun but it wasn't something that looked good on a resume. Countless potential employers had turned her away until she knew the only way she would be getting a new job would be to omit it entirely. And so she had. 

That was around the time she had seen the posting for the Dowling’s, a name that brought up old memories of simpler times. They were looking for a new cook and the opportunity seemed too perfect to ignore. Perhaps Satan was giving her a sign that he wanted her to check in on his son. He must be six now and in desperate need of guidance.

So Anne packed her bags and made her way to the Dowling’s estate, new improved resume in hand. The guards barely gave her a second look before opening the gates for her. The grounds were expansive, though not as well cared for as she would have thought. There was a tiny cottage hidden amongst some of the especially overgrown plants that reminded her more of her childhood home then it had any right to. At least the main estate was impressive with its many windows and large front doors. This was far more befitting of the Adversary, Destroyer of Kings, Angel of the Bottomless Pit, Great Beast that is called Dragon, Prince of This World, Father of Lies, Spawn of Satan, and Lord of Darkness. And the inside was just as splendid as the outside had been. 

“Miss. Dankworth I presume, Mrs. Dowling is waiting for you in the sitting room, if you will just follow me.” The butler led her down a long hall, her excitement building with every step, she was seeing first hand the home of her Antichrist, about to meet his mother again. What if she recognised her? She hadn’t been in the room with her but that didn’t mean that she wouldn’t have spotted her in passing. Before she could have a complete melt down the butler had pulled open a door and was gesturing her inside. 

Anne clamped her mouth shut before stepping inside and taking a seat across from Mrs. Dowling, she could feel her thoughts racing and trying to make their way out for all to hear. One of her favourite things about joining the cloister of Satanic Nuns had been the non stop chattering to show their devotion. Words had always fallen easily from her even if they did little more then fill the silence. Now she was finding it very hard to remain silent and wait for Mrs. Dowling to say something. 

“I see you have a lot of experience running a kitchen.” 

“Yes, I was in charge of cooking for my fellow sisters and providing any other snacks or treats that they may require. It was very fulfilling work that I miss greatly.” She was about to continue explaining what the meals had been like when Mrs. Dowling lifted her hand up to silence her. 

“So you were a nun then.” 

“Oh yes, and still am in many ways.” 

“Well in that case you're hired. We could use more good Christians on staff and you seem more than capable of running the kitchens.” Anne opened her mouth a long list of thank you's and over all excitement ready to spill out when Mrs. Dowling shook her head. “Just head for the kitchens and get acquainted with where everything is, you start tomorrow.” 

Having completed one of her most successful interviews she followed the butler to the kitchen. Her other successful interviews included Tesco and being recruited to join a pyramid scheme that was all about selling plastic containers for some reason. It really was no surprise that she ended up joining the sisters of St. Beryl. 

“I trust you can find your own way out.” The butler said before leaving. 

Anne pulled open all the cupboards inspecting their contents before opening the fridge and freezer. There was nothing too exciting, most of it looked like things you would find in an American home and therefore had little nutritious value. She would have to change that, the Antichrist couldn’t grow up on American squeeze cheese and Eggo's, whatever that was. The pantry proved to at least be better, with an assortment of canned vegetables and potatoes. She was just about to make her way out of the depths of the pantry when she heard the click of heels on the floor outside followed by the sound of a six year old. It must be the Antichrist. 

Anne burst out of the pantry arms flailing smile blinding to greet him, he was her superior after all. “Hello, I’m Anne. I’m the new cook.” She stuck her hand out towards the Antichrist in greeting. He ignored it and by extension her as he turned back to the woman that had entered with him. 

“Nanny says I can have cookies and tea. Make me tea!” He yelled. Anne nodded, running for the kettle and filling it up with water. Whatever he wanted she would make sure he got. While she waited for the water to boil she eyed the nanny, there was something familiar about her that she couldn’t quite place. She hadn’t been a fellow Satanic nun and yet her energy reminded her of that time of her life. Anne annualized her vibrant red hair all neatly pinned up before moving to her dark glasses and painted lips. Her clothes were dark and conservative which she supposed would be expected for a middle aged nanny. The woman caught her eye clearly noticing her starring but before she could say anything in her defence the kettle screamed from the stove. With shaky hands she poured it over the leaves mind still trying to place where this feeling was coming from. It would make sense that Hell would want someone watching over the Antichrist, perhaps she was working with them. Of course they would have thought of something like that. 

When the tea was ready she set it down in front of him along with a plate of cookies. “Well, it was lovely meeting you. I will be back tomorrow, so, till then.” She tipped her head and very nearly ran from the room. It took her a couple tries before she got her bearings right in the large house but when she did it was just a short walk back out onto the grounds. That’s where she spotted a black Bentley that also looked familiar. Though she wasn’t sure why, seeing as her interest in cars had always been minimal at best. Was it the nanny's? 

Tomorrow, she would figure it out tomorrow. Now that she was working here she would have plenty of time to put the pieces together. 

In the end it took Anne just over a month to work it out, in that time she had noticed all the secret conversations between the nanny and the gardener. An affair, she had thought, it wouldn’t be the first time she had stumbled across one of those. Being naturally good at hiding in places that were unexpected and walking past closed doors at exactly the right time she had overheard many interesting things. In this case she didn’t so much as stumble onto a conversation as she noticed the way the nanny was walking. Normally she carried herself with an unaffected indifference to those around her as if to say ‘I know what you're up to and I won't stand for it.’ This walk however was more similar to someone that had only recently been given two legs and then were left to figure out how they worked by themselves. Only one other person had ever walked like that to Anne’s recollection and he had been the very demon that had delivered the Antichrist. 

Once that particular connection was made the rest fell into place very easily. Hell had assigned him? Her? Them, to watch over the Antichrist until he was old enough to fulfil his father's plans. Well Anne would make sure they knew that she was there to support anything that Hell might need. She may not officially be a Satanic nun anymore but she still cared about helping when she could. 

So the next day Anne made her way to the nanny’s room. It was early morning and she had a tray of breakfast to offer them once they opened the door. She had never spoken to a demon before and it felt a little bit like meeting a rock star. Or at least how she assumed other people would feel about meeting a rock star. 

After a couple frantic knocks the door was pulled open. “Warlock what did I tell you about knocking on my door this early in the morning?” The nanny shouted before noticing her, when they did they sighed. “What do you want?” 

“I…. could I come in?” In response the nanny left the door open before disappearing back into the dark room. Now most people would think this was a trap, never follow a demon into their own domain, Anne wasn’t most people though, she had been successfully making demon-like noises for years. They were very effective in scaring off unwanted attention. 

The room was sparse in decoration with a distinct minimalist vibe though whether it was intentional or simply a by-product of not planning on staying here for very long she couldn’t be sure. 

“It’s a lovely room.” 

“If you're here to proposition me, then I should let you know right now I’m not interested.” The nanny said, Anne laughed nervously, as the idea filled her mind with all kinds of unexpected images. 

“No. I mean, that’s not why I wanted to speak with you.”

“Could have fooled me dearie.” 

“I know what you are.” Anne said in a rush before she could stop herself. “And I want to help you with the Antichrist. You see I was there the night you dropped him off at St Beryl’s. I was one of the nuns there at the time. Had been for a number of years in fact. Great place to work. So many opportunities, and fellow sisters that shared my love for the Dark Lord. I was sad when the fire disbanded it. To be honest I’ve been wanting to get back to my old work and what better way to help then to make sure the Adversary, Destroyer of Kings, Angel of the Bottomless Pit, Great Beast that is called Dragon, Prince of This World, Father of Lies, Spawn of Satan, and Lord of Darkness is raised properly.” She would have gone on but the nanny silenced her with a look. 

“You saw me that night?” They looked surprised. 

“Yes, you looked different of course but I figured it out.” Oh heaven hopefully she had figured it out because if they weren’t the same demon then they would surely think her crazy. 

“Alright Anne, listen closely.” They waited for her to nod before continuing. “You are to never bring up any of this with anyone else ever again. In fact I think it would be best if you resigned after we're done having this conversation.” 

“But, I want to help.” 

“That is the only way you can help. Do you understand?” 

“Yes. I suppose you already have all the help you need, what with the gardener helping you. He’s a demon too isn’t he?” It was meant as a simple enough question certainly not something she would think earned the reaction she received. The nanny had gotten to their feet as if to remind her of their large difference in height. Their dark glasses slide down their noise revealing golden snake eyes that burned with fury. If there had been any lingering doubt that the nanny was a demon then it was now well and truly squashed. 

“Don’t you dare talk about him like that! He’s not a demon and he never will be.” With that Anne was shoved out the room. 

This interaction could be included in a long list of similar ones involving her being thrown from the room after asking a question. Though the first time it had been a demon doing the throwing. She supposed she just had a way of asking the questions that people didn’t want to answer. 

Now normally she would have done exactly as she was told and perhaps in the future she would look back and wonder why she hadn’t this particular time. Maybe it was because her life felt as if it was all leading up to this or maybe it was merely the fact that she was so sure she could make a difference in the great war for Hell. Regardless of the reason Anne stayed much to the demon nanny’s annoyance.


	2. Chapter 2

Crowley had been completely caught off guard by the new cook. There had of course been a number of humans over the centuries that were able to pick up on her true nature. But every single one of them had merely opted for avoiding her, they would certainly never approach her offering her help. Well, with one exception, but he had been power hungry and naive enough to believe you could trade your soul for musical talents. Complete rubbish, what good was a soul to Crowley? No, nothing but trouble and far too much paperwork. 

Satanic nuns had always been a different thing altogether, especially the nuns of Saint Beryl. They were the only convent that Crowley had ever bothered to visit and that had been purely for work reasons. The idea that one of those fools would cross her path again later and recognise her even while dressed as the nanny had never crossed her mind. Yet that was the predicament she now found herself in. 

Said cook was still here even after their little chat a couple nights ago, she seemed heaven bent on helping Crowley with Warlock, if the large plate of chocolate pancakes in front of him was any indication. Warlock of course was loving the extra attention, he was so spoiled at this point even Crowley was starting to worry. If Aziraphale didn’t pick up his game then the added bad influence of the cook would definitely sway Warlock in the right direction. 

Said angel was still completely unaware of the cook’s allegiance, a fact that Crowley was trying to fix. She of course had wanted to tell him as soon as she had found out but was hesitant given their track record. That is to say a large part of her was sure he would blame her for the cooks sudden presence and believe her to be keeping secrets to benefit Hell. This particular worry had thus far prevented her from speaking with him. That was about to change however because on this particular day, he had come to the main house to enjoy breakfast with Warlock. Unlike the Antichrist he wasn’t consuming chocolate chip infested pancakes but instead the fluffiest eggs on the freshest toast. Yet another way the cook was bribing the staff into liking her. 

“This is very good, did you make this all yourself?” Aziraphale asked. 

“Yes, I had to get up early to knead the bread but it’s always worth it.” 

“It most certainly is.” He beamed at Crowley from across the table. A similar plate had been placed in front of her and she found herself pushing it towards him with a grimace. Let him enjoy it all then. She needed to plan out a way to get the cook fired, and she would need him on her side. Later she decided she would sneak to his tiny cottage with a bottle of wine and perhaps some chocolates to sweeten the deal. Then she would finally tell him about the ex satanic nun currently pouring him a second cup of tea. 

“Nanny! I want to go play!” Warlock yelled bouncing on his feet, the sugar had fully set in and she knew she was in for a long day, if she didn’t know better she would have thought the cook was deliberately trying to make her job harder. 

In the end he ran around making mischief for a good couple hours before crashing in the living room. While she condoned the mischief it was exhausting to make sure he didn’t inadvertently hurt himself in the process. Now would normally be the time when she put some movie on, preferably something that was suitably wicked, there was a surprising amount of Disney films that fit the criteria. Today however the cook beat her to it, putting in a Bevanfield movie. Now Bevanfield for those of you who don’t know is a company that made animated films in the United Kingdom in the 90’s that sometimes resembled similar titles to Disney films in order to trick unsuspecting parents into believing that they are one and the same. Bevanfield even gave free movies away with the Daily Mail for a period of time. The Daily Mail, of course being mostly rubbish itself made this a perfect collaboration. It was also something that Crowley herself had suggested and was now about to suffer the consequences of. The movie in this particular case ended up being Beauty and the Beast, and it was put on while the nanny was in the other room, so that by the time she reached Warlock it was too late. 

“Come watch with me nanny!” Warlock demanded, as she took in the carnage. 

Reluctantly she took her place next to him, it didn’t seem right to make him suffer through it alone. And that’s how Crowley spent her afternoon, watching the three fingered horror that was Bevanfield's take on Beauty and the Beast. Of course there was also a lovely subplot about marrying your much older relatives, just to make it worse. By the end of the film Crowley was suitably horrified and Warlock had lost all interest, spending the last half hour playing with his toys on the floor instead. 

It is at this point that Crowley knew without a shadow of doubt that the cook would definitely push Warlock all the way over to the destroying all of humanity side and with great ease. She would need to be fired and fast. 

So that night when she crept to the gardener's cottage with a suitably aged wine and a box of chocolates it was with great urgency. Aziraphale answered in his brother Francis' disguise before shedding it after closing the door behind her. 

“Sometimes I think you had the right idea with your disguise being more simple.” 

“If you think all these perfect layers and hairstyles are simple in comparison to your ridiculous get up then you’re more naive than I thought.”   
“Rough day?” He asked, handing her a glass of wine. The chocolates had been opened and placed in between them even though they both knew he would eat most of them. 

“I had to watch a hyper active six year old all morning before watching a Bevanfield movie.” 

“I don’t know what that is dear, but I’m sure it was terrible.” He patted her back before taking a seat in his armchair. 

“The cook knows I’m a demon.” It seemed the right thing to do, just get it over with. No need for anymore simple pleasantries when he still didn’t know who the cook really was. 

“What! How?” He looked suitably worried now.

“She was one of the nuns from Saint Beryl’s.” When he looked confused she added “the satanic convent where Warlock was born. She must have seen me when I was delivering the Antichrist.”

“But weren’t you presenting differently than? How would she be able to tell you where the same person?” 

“Don’t know, angel. All I know is that she figured it out and wants to help me make Warlock suitably evil. Which means that we need to get her sacked and fast.” 

“You really think she is qualified enough to make Warlock more wicked?” 

“Yes, aren't you listening. She made him watch a Bevanfield movie today; they gave them away for free in the Daily Mail.” 

“Oh my. That is bad.” He pursed his lips in thought. “How about we give her a better opportunity somewhere else so that she feels good about leaving.” 

“I don’t think there’s anything we could set up that would make her want to leave the Antichrist’s side. She is far too devoted to Satan. The only way to get rid of her is by getting her fired.” 

“And how would we do that?” 

“I’ll encourage her to be really awful to set a bad example to Warlock, eventually Harriet will notice and fire her. Problem solved.” 

Aziraphale gives her a sceptical look “wont that still just push Warlock closer to your side though. If he sees both his nanny and cook acting poorly.” 

“It’s the only option, angel. You’re just going to have to up your game to counteract it.” 

“How can I possibly do that now that it’s winter?” 

His concerns are valid as every year once winter hits the time spent in the garden goes from semi frequent to not at all. Harriet has always been overly worried about Warlock catching a cold and will only permit Crowley to take him out when it’s snowing for an hour tops. The hour is usually spent building a snowman and ignoring everything around him or another attempt at a failed snow-fort. The forts always collapse usually on Warlock at which point Crowley has no other choice but to drag him inside to get warm. There was one time where they managed to meet up outside in the snow and that had been the one and only time Warlock had demanded a snowball fight. After that Aziraphale deemed the snow terrible and stayed indoors most days with his books. All this is to say that the only thing to push Warlock to be good during the winter ended up being Christmas. 

“Focus on Christmas I guess. No gifts if you're bad.” It had worked in the past, at least to a certain extent. 

“I do love Christmas.” And just like that she lost the angel to memories of delicious meals and bright lights.

The next couple of days went by with little fanfare Crowley didn’t even see Aziraphale despite the fact he was supposed to be upping his game in the good influence department. At least she had come up with a plan of her own to get the cook fired.

“Anne, or whatever your name is, I want to see you after you're done cooking.” This was followed by a menacing look. 

Anne made sure to go as fast as possible before meeting her in what was currently Crowley’s office but was in actuality Warlocks playroom. Warlock himself was too busy playing video games to pay attention to the very important meeting taking place at the table behind him. 

“What can I do for you?” The cook asked. 

“As you know I have been working very hard for Hell in order to make sure the Antichrist is as awful as possible. What you don’t know is that when this is all over and he is ready he will bring about the end of the world.” Crowley paused here in the hopes to really make her point, in the background Warlock yelled triumphantly at the television. 

“Yes, I know what happens when the Antichrist comes into his true power.” 

“And you're fine with it? I mean the world would be over, nothing left, no more cooking or… doing any of the other things you like.” 

“I understand the consequences of my master taking his power.” 

“Well as long as you're okay with it, let’s get down to business. I need you to be an awful influence on him. I’m talking stealing food, breaking dishes, getting drunk on the job and any other manner of thing that you can think of.” 

“But won't that get me fired?” 

“No, no, of course not. The point won't be about whether or not you get fired anyway it’s all about influencing Warlock to be as bad as possible. He looks up to you and you have a chance to really make a difference in his life.”

“You really think the Antichrist looks up to me!?” Anne looked visibly shaken by the very concept, Warlock shouted at them to keep it down from his spot in front of the television. 

“Of course.” 

“Well in that case how could I refuse,” 

It was just a week later that Crowley caught Anne with Mr. Dowling.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Christmas activities with Warlock

Aziraphale had loved Christmas long before humans had even given it that name. Region to region it had many different names and traditions and he had enjoyed them all equally. Whether it was a turkey or ham or fish it was always delicious. Desserts were also abundant as well as bright lights and happy people, and that wasn’t even getting into the amount of love the day seemed to radiate around him. The first years he had witnessed it, had taken his breath away and made him light for months. Crowley had been concerned. Now she was used to it.

At the Dowling's things around Christmas followed all the American traditions of boisterous trees and bright decorations (Aziraphale still wasn’t sure what he thought of all the inflatable animals). The kitchens were always stocked with the best homemade pies and biscuits though which he greatly appreciated. This year of course Anne was the cook which meant he was more wary of coming and going as often as he would like. This morning he had made the trip to the kitchen despite Anne’s near constant presence. It was early still, the sun only just making its way up the sky when he stepped inside. No one was up and about this early so he made his way to the kitchen without any interruptions. Once inside he pulled down some corn kernels and a large bowl along with some oranges and cloves. Next he set about looking for cinnamon sticks, they always had some this time of year. He had just spotted them in the pantry when someone cleared their voice behind him. Aziraphale whipped around so fast he nearly dropped the cinnamon in his hands. 

“Oh, it’s just you.” Crowley stood in the shadow of the doorway clad in her nightgown and housecoat. Aziraphale was careful not to let his eyes wander instead choosing to focus on the items he had collected. “I’m going to get Warlock to help me make decorations for one of the big trees on the grounds. Won't that be lovely.” 

Crowley shrugged nonplussed as she made her way towards the fancy coffee contraption that was already busy making her morning brew. Aziraphale decided to let her enjoy it while he got the last couple things he would need. He was just packing everything up when she finally spoke up. “Anne is having an affair with Mr. Dowling.” 

“Was that your idea?” 

“No, of course it wasn’t my idea. Anne came up with that all on her own.” 

“Well now what?” 

They both got quite still hunched together when Anne pushed her way into the kitchen a couple minutes later. If she was surprised to see them together she made no comment. It wasn’t until Aziraphale tried to excuse himself with all the supplies that she spoke up. “You can’t just take all that back to your cottage. The Dowling's will wonder where it all went.” 

“Let him go Anne.” Crowley said sharply. 

“Are you sure, I mean I know the two of you have a thing but that’s still a lot to go missing from the pantry."

"No one will notice." Crowley said waving her off "now best be on your way Brother Francis. I'll bring Warlock out later for his outdoor activity." 

Aziraphale knew a dismissal when he heard one and quickly headed out the door with his items. He was sure Warlock would love the homemade decorations. 

Later ended up coming much faster than he had thought as he had barely started to get everything set up when Crowley showed up with Warlock in tow. 

Warlock, being only six and never being all that interested in arts and crafts looked disinterested when Aziraphale directed them to the tiny kitchen. The supplies had been carefully laid out and he had just started to pop the corn when they had arrived. 

“Are we eating popcorn? Cause I want to watch a movie if we are.” If Warlock had gotten his way they would have stayed inside and watched how the Grinch Stole Christmas instead. Crowley had watched it with him every year and always turned it off before his heart could grow three sizes. Warlock would be fifteen years old before he realised that wasn't where the movie ended. 

“No, the corn isn’t for eating, it’s for decorating.” Warlock looked properly horrified at that. Aziraphale did his best to ignore the look, instead pulling out the needle and thread on the table and showing him how to pull it through the popcorn. “See, we're going to make a long string of corn to hang on a tree.” 

“Do I have too?” The question was directed at Crowley who nodded firmly. “Fine!” 

Warlock’s sulk lasted for another ten minutes before he started to enjoy it much to Crowley’s surprise. By the time Aziraphale brought out the candy canes and premade gingerbread people Warlock was happily sticking cloves into an orange while humming a Christmas song. 

When everything was made and ready Aziraphale directed them to a large cedar tree in the yard that was miraculously not covered in snow. 

“Now we're going to put all the decorations on this here tree.” Aziraphale said directing Warlock on how best to place candy canes and gingerbread people on all the lower branches. When he could no longer reach he was scooped up by the gardener and raised higher. Crowley shifted uncomfortably at the display of the giggling Antichrist being held high by an angel of the lord. 

Once the tree was covered he gave Warlock the string of corn and got him to wrap it around the base until he couldn’t reach any higher at which point he took over. After that they stood back to admire their hard work. 

“It looks so cool Brother Francis. Can we put lights on it?” Warlock asked. 

“Warlock, come inside right now!” Harriet practically screamed from the door to the estate. 

Regretfully Aziraphale leaned down to Warlock promising that he would put up the lights, and they would be bright enough that he would be able to see them from his bedroom window. With that Crowley whisked him off back to the main house, where Harriet was standing with her arms crossed, foot tapping. Aziraphale nodded at her and received a very pointed look that didn’t bow well for what was coming. He would have to ask Crowley later, for now he looked on as the door was slammed shut behind them. 

Usually he would be expected to put the lights up without the help of miracles but after nearly falling twice he gave up and used a miracle. How humans were able to stand on a teetering ladder in the snow and ice while stretching up with tools and lights in their hands without falling to their death was one of life's greatest mysteries. 

Once it was all arranged in a way that he deemed lovely he turned them on making the yard light up with all the colours of the rainbow. It reminded him of some of the more recent gay pride parades he had been too, especially with all the blow up animals. 

Warlock’s face appeared from his bedroom window, and even from the distance separating them Aziraphale could tell that he was in awe at the sheer amount of lights and the diverse selection of colours. Perhaps he had gone a little overboard. But that thought was quickly dismissed when Warlock started waving frantically at him in his excitement. 

While Warlock loved the display the rest of the staff wasn’t too thrilled, especially when the Dowling estate made the papers and people started to drive by to get a look at the house and all it’s pretty lights. It wasn’t long afterwards that Mrs. Dowling herself made an appearance at his cottage, something that had never happened before. 

“You need to take the lights down, I’m sick of being blinded by them every night when I’m trying to sleep. Not to mention the non stop stream of cars lining up to get a look.” 

“Are you quite sure? It’s only, you see, Mr. Dowling came by earlier to say he loved them and mentioned some sort of contest.” It was true Mr. Dowling had been very clear on how much he loved the lights and all the extra attention it had garnered for him as the American ambassador. He seemed to believe that it even helped bring more American charm to the UK. American charm in Aziraphale’s opinion always seemed to mean an over the top display, at least when it concerned Mr. Dowling. 

“Yes I’m sure. I don’t care what my husband says, this has gone on long enough. And don’t think I didn’t notice how you decorated one of the trees, all the animals have been all over it eating all the popcorn and whatever else you put up. We’re likely to get rats now.” With that Mrs. Dowling stormed off back to the main house. Aziraphale felt certain she had found out about her husband's affair. 

That night there were no lights to be seen as he made sure to turn them all off. He would just have to find another way to help Warlock. 

That idea ended up coming to him when he was listening to the wireless the following morning and the host was talking about letters to Santa. He of course knew all about the practice of sending letters to Santa in the hopes of getting everything on your wish list, but he had never thought of encouraging Warlock to send one before. This year seemed like the perfect time to get him to write one. After all now that he was six years old he could use it as a way of practising his writing while also making it fun. He could even show him what postage to use and where to drop it off. No one seemed to use the post anymore which was a shame as there was something about sending and receiving letters in the post that was so much nicer than phone messaging or whatever Crowley said it was called. 

With that decided he invited Crowley and Warlock over to his cottage again. This time the table was covered with papers and stamps as well as many differently covered markers. He even found some cute stickers and added them to the pile of supplies. 

When Crowley arrived she raised an eyebrow at the table but didn’t make a comment one way or another. Warlock at least was overjoyed at the idea of writing a letter with a list of all the things he wanted. 

“Now, first pick which marker you would like to use and then we will get started.” Warlock grabbed a pink marker and then proceeded to draw all over the paper. “Oh, while that is a lovely drawing Warlock we are meant to be writing to Santa. If you write out what you would like then it will be much easier for him to send it to you. If you're good of course.” 

“But Brother Francis I don’t know how to write that well yet.” 

“That’s why I’m here. To show you.” He took a seat next to Warlock before picking up a blue marker and showing him how to properly start a letter. “Normally you start off with To Santa, see like this.” Warlock nodded before doing his best to copy his neat writing. Behind him Crowley did her best to not melt at the sight, she was a demon and scenes like this had no impact on her whatsoever. 

“Now you write what you would like.” 

“But I don’t know how to write it out!” 

“Just tell me what you would like to say and I’ll show you.” 

“Well, what I really want is an Elsa doll, you can brush her hair and change her clothes. But mum and dad say I can’t ask for it because it’s a girls toy.” 

“Warlock there is no such thing as a toy just for girls if that is what you would like then that’s what we will ask for.” Aziraphale said firmly before writing it out in large easy to read letters so that he could easily copy it. 

“That’s what nanny said.” Warlock grinned before doing his best to copy the letters tongue sticking out in concentration. Aziraphale smiled at Crowley who quickly looked away but he didn’t miss the slight blush to her cheeks. 

When the letter was finished he looked it over making sure all the letters were facing the right direction. “It looks lovely Warlock, now do you want to add a drawing or any stickers?” 

“Yes!” He grabbed all the markers and proceeded to draw a picture of what Aziraphale assumed must be Elsa. Crowley knew all too well who Elsa was as well as all the words to Let it go, though she would never admit to enjoying it as much as she did. 

Once nearly every inch of the letter was covered in stickers Aziraphale folded it up and then directed Warlock on how to put it into the envelope. “Now you can lick it closed.” Warlock licked it eagerly before making a face at the foul taste. 

Aziraphale let him pick out a stamp before placing it on the envelope. “That’s it, now there’s just the matter of sending it.” 

The three of them got bundled up and headed outside letter clutched tightly in Warlocks hands. The closest postbox was a short walk away from the estate but it was still a long enough distance in the snow that Warlock was getting tired on the journey back. 

“I can’t walk anymore. Can’t you carry me nanny?” 

“Warlock, we’ve talked about this, your six now which means you are more than capable of walking on your own.”

“But I’m tired.” He stomped his tiny boot down in fury before losing his balance and falling face first into the snow. Crowley eyed Aziraphale before reaching down and pulling him up and out of the snow. He was shaking and looked close to tears. 

“No need to cry my little devourer of worlds I’ll carry you. But just this once.” She gently wiped the snow off his face before pulling him up and placing him on her hip. They walked the rest of the way back in silence, Aziraphale enjoying the crisp air and the sweet image of Crowley carrying the Antichrist. Once they arrived back at the main house he said his goodbyes and departed back to his own cottage. The last thing he wanted was to catch Mrs. Dowling's eye and get another verbal accosting, he received enough of them from Heaven, thank you very much. 

Crowley made it known the following day that she was not pleased with his promises that Santa would deliver the Elsa doll, as the Dowling’s had found out and firmly shot him down once more. They managed to make him cry for a good hour before Crowley was able to calm him down. “Unless you have a way of special ordering toys from Heaven I think it’s best if we just leave it there. We could even spin it that he wasn’t well behaved enough to be on the nice list.” He made a face at that “what, it’s not like he isn’t going to get every other toy on his list.” 

“While that may be true I still think he put a lot of work into his letter and he has been trying to behave better. It wouldn’t look good if he spent all that time writing to Santa and then didn’t receive the one thing that he asked for.” 

“You're spoiling him. The Dowling's won't be happy.”

“No they won't be.” 

“Fine. But I’m not driving us to the shops on the weekend because it will be a complete mad house this time of year.” 

They went on a Wednesday. It was Crowley’s day off and Aziraphale didn’t have much work to do this time of year. The toy shops were still busy. Aziraphale was sure they only found a parking spot with the assistance of a demonic miracle. The inside of the toy store was even worse, with people pushing and shoving their way to what he assumed must be the most popular toys. 

“There, I think I see it.” Crowley pointed through a crowd of people all clamouring around a large display that had the word Frozen in-blazed across it. “Come on angel.” She grabbed his hand pulling him along behind her in the direction of the crowd. When they got closer he could tell that all the dolls that Warlock wanted were gone with the exception of one, which was currently being fought over by two very angry women. 

“I saw it first.” 

“Well then you should have grabbed it first.” 

“Sorry to interrupt, but I was hoping that I could get that doll. You see my godson really wants it for Christmas and I promised to get it for him.” Both women turned on him and said some decidedly homophobic things before there was an audible snap and they froze firmly in place. 

“Now Crowley was that really necessary?” Crowley for her part ignored him in favour of grabbing the toy and walking towards the registers. She waited until they were in the queue before snapping her fingers again. 

“You can’t possibly think they would have given it to you just because you asked nicely. This is consumerism at it’s finest angel. No one here cares about helping out others, they just want to buy what they came here for and then get out. Who do you think came up with all this?” 

“You designed this.” 

“Keep your voice down, it’s a good way of causing a lot of low level evil. They all go home angry and frustrated where they spread their annoyance onto their families.” 

“Yes I can see that.” 

The cashier rang them through after commenting on how lucky they were to get the doll. After that Aziraphale decided that this was a one time type experience best left to humans.


	4. Chapter 4

Now Anne had been very careful not to raise any suspicions after promptly starting her affair. It was the wrong thing to do which therefore meant it was the right thing to do. The demon nanny had been very clear on being a bad influence and she had always been good at that. She was the one that had started drinking at sixteen, a full two years before it was legal, and then proceeded to encourage others to follow suit. 

Unfortunately one of the dishwashers had overheard her and Mr. Dowling and now the speculations were running rampant over who it was that he was seeing to. Most seemed to think it was the nanny, though no one had said so while she was around. Something about her looking like the 'type' and apparently Mr. Dowling had harboured a thing for her. While normally she would feel bad for not clearing the air, she was the one doing bad things not the nanny. In this case the nanny in question was a demon and probably didn’t mind. So she remained quiet on the whole thing. 

It was around the time that Mrs. Dowling asked to speak to the nanny that she started to second guess her decision. Maybe it would have been better to tell her what was going on. They were on the same side after all, oh well too late now. She would just have to wait and see how things went. 

They predictably didn’t go well, with a screaming match so loud it could be heard across the hall. Mrs Dowling was yelling all manner of insults in regards to the demon's virtue which in and of itself was funny to Anne as if a demon would care. Whatever was said back she couldn’t make out as it was said far quieter. When the door opened it was to a very imposing looking demon nanny swiftly followed by Mrs. Dowling. The latter of which had tear tracks down her cheeks. 

“After Christmas, then you're gone! Both of you!” She gestured between them before storming by. 

“Did I just get fired?” Anne couldn’t help but ask. Things had been going so well and as far as she knew nobody had known. 

“Tough break.” The demon nanny said letting their dark glasses slide down just enough to show off a very yellow slitted eye. Then they disappeared around the corner leaving Anne to puzzle over just what had happened. While it seemed that she was just sold out by the demon nanny that just didn’t make sense. They were meant to be working together to help their lord and saviour. They couldn’t both leave at the same time then who would be left to make sure he received everything he needed. Surely Satan had a back up plan. Perhaps another demon would be sent up to replace the current one. Anne hoped it wouldn’t be Hastur, he had always been far too into setting things on fire for her taste. 

The following day she tried to get the nanny’s attention to ask them what the plan was now that they were both fired and was ignored. Whatever the great plan was it was clear to Anne that she wasn’t meant to know it. 

“Heard you got fired.” It was the dishwasher, he had really turned into one of the biggest gossips at the estate. 

“Yeah.” 

“Well I know a telemarketer center that’s hiring, could give you the info if you want.” 

“Really, that would be great.” While Anne had never really given much thought to working as a telemarketer before, now that the idea was there it seemed like a good fit. It would pay well and she knew they wouldn’t care about her past as a Satanic Nun. Places like that never did.

With that figured out she touched up her resume to include her time at the Dowling's, it was shaping up to be a very impressive list of different jobs. Hopefully the other nuns from St. Beryl’s had been as lucky as she was. They had always planned on staying in contact but then the fire had happened and they had all lost touch. At least now if she ever did get a hold of them she could update them on the Antichrist. He would do just fine without her though she still wished that she had been able to get an update from the demon nanny. Perhaps the gardener would know what was going on. He would after all still be around after they were both gone. 

That afternoon after finishing her resume Anne headed down to the little cottage, with a basket of treats in hand. The tiny home looked much friendlier now than it had when she had first started, it was probably due mostly to the lights hanging like icicles around the roof. She rapped on the door with her knuckles before stepping back and waiting patiently. After a couple of minutes the door opened letting out a sliver of light and warmth from inside. Brother Francis peered around the door seemingly surprised to see her. She made sure to wave the basket of treats in front of him. 

“What’s all this?” He asked still shielded by the door.

“Just a small going away gift.” Anne holds the basket out for him to take and he does so though reluctantly. “I was hoping we could talk too, if that’s not too much trouble.” 

“No trouble at all.” And just like that she allowed admittance into the cottage. The inside feels even tinier than the outside with large stacks of books everywhere. How he is able to cook anything with so many books in the way is a mystery. Though if he really is a demon like the nanny then food isn’t really necessary. “Take a seat wherever. Would you care for some tea?” 

“That’s all right I don’t want to talk long, it’s just about Warlock.” 

“Oh?” 

“I’m sure you heard about how we were fired.” 

He looks confused “you mean the two of us?” 

“No, me and the nanny. I’m terribly afraid that with us gone he wont have anymore bad influences or even anyone to watch out for him. He is the Antichrist after all, and as such he deserves the very best that we can offer. I’m sure you will do what you can to look after him for the time being, just until they find someone new. I guess that’s what I was wondering about, who will be sent to replace us? And will he be well taken care of? I have grown rather fond of him, though he is the son of my Lord so I guess it’s expected.” Anne would have gone on much longer, her tendency to ramble in full force but the gardener interrupts her. 

“You and Ashtoreth were fired? Why?” 

“Because of the affair, at least that’s what I assumed. Now if you could tell me who will be replacing us, the nanny is being very quiet on the matter. I haven't even been able to catch her eye since it happened. I think she’s avoiding me, and I really want to know what Hell’s plan is now. I was a Satanic nun for many years, you know. It still feels like a large part of who I am.” 

“The affair?” 

“Yes, between me and Thaddeus. Honestly does she not tell you anything that’s going on. I thought you were close. Or, oh no. You're not a demon are you?”

There is a long tense silence between them and it’s clear he’s choosing his words carefully. Anne wants to run, suddenly feeling like maybe this was the wrong decision. She had just wanted answers so badly, but he clearly isn’t who she thought he is. 

“No, I’m not. Now I think it’s best you leave.” The northern accent is completely gone and Anne feels terrified by the light radiating off him. 

As she runs for the main house she can’t help but remember that the demon nanny had called him ‘angel’ when they thought no one could overhear. Surely a demon and an angel would never work together. The thought plagues her late into the night and stays with her the following day. After that Anne decides it’s best not to seek out either of them.

Thaddeus, who left for America shortly after the lights were put up, comes back to a dark house and a staff in turmoil. Anne hears him and Harriett screaming at each other that whole first night. The words she catches are all accusatory. Normally such anger would lead to a divorce but the following morning they seem to be back to their old selves. Thaddeus even visit’s her in her room like before. 

“The nanny gave us away, probably for the best.” He says before cornering her against the wall. It’s all very demanding and nothing at all like the romance novels Anne had been so invested in as a teenager. When he leaves her afterwards she knows it’s for the last time and she doesn't know how to feel about it. Probably should feel relief instead she feels numb. Maybe it was seeing the gardener or maybe it’s the realisation that in a game of Heaven and Hell she is only human and it was silly to think she had any real power. Provided any real help to Hell. 

When she hears back from the telemarketing job before Christmas she takes the opportunity and leaves. Onto something new with the knowledge that the Antichrist is happy and healthy and one day he will come into his power. She hopes he will remember her when he does, that he will appreciate the treats she made for him. 

On her last day Anne waves goodbye to the Adversary, Destroyer of Kings, Angel of the Bottomless Pit, Great Beast that is called Dragon, Prince of This World, Father of Lies, Spawn of Satan, and Lord of Darkness. It will be the last time she sees him.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait, I know it's long past Christmas now, but I hope you enjoy it anyway. More tags will be added so keep an eye out for that.

Harriett had come around a couple times to discuss the best time for her to leave. They had managed to finally agree that the best time would be after winter break when Warlock would be back in school. Crowley supposed that her time as nanny had already been close to the end but to have it come so abruptly still stung. She didn’t have the heart to tell Warlock or Aziraphale, not when both of them were so looking forward to Christmas. They seemed to be the only ones as Christmas for everyone else had taken a backseat from the drama around the sudden firing of the nanny and cook. Most still thought it was the nanny that had an affair with Mr. Dowling and the poor cook had merely gotten caught in the cross-hairs. Others believed that they had worked together to seduce him. Crowley’s favourite theory though was that she had gotten powers from Hell in exchange for her soul, said powers were then naturally used on the unsuspecting man. When she had first heard that one she had locked herself in the bathroom to laugh for a good ten minutes. 

“Nanny, do you think I’ve been good enough for the Elsa doll?” 

“Well you're certainly better behaved then most of the staff here.” And wasn’t that the sad truth. 

“Adults don’t get presents, because they don’t believe in Santa.” 

“Who told you that?” 

“The kids at school.” 

“Well then it most certainly is the truth.” Warlock eyed her suspiciously, before running off across the yard. They had only been outside for a couple minutes and Crowley was already cursing the snow. It had gotten so deep that it was close to filling her boots whenever she tried to take a step. Wearing a pencil skirt had been out of the question so she was currently in pressed trousers and the thickest coat she could find. 

With a final grumble to the world in general she made her way across the yard where the Antichrist and lord of darkness was splayed out on his back moving his arms and legs frantically. 

“What in Hell’s name are you doing?” 

“I’m making a snow angel. Brother Francis showed me.” 

“Of course he did,” that utter bastard. “All right, that's enough, get up.” Crowley reached down pulling him up and glancing around as if a demon may be lurking in the shadows taking notes on the Antichrist's display. 

“Let’s go see Brother Francis!” Warlock shouted, dragging her along behind him in the direction of the tiny cottage. Crowley was horrified as the snow finally one out in the war against her boots and managed to soak her feet. A quick demonic miracle fixed the problem at least. 

By the time she reached the cottage Warlock had already banged on the door a couple times, meaning that Aziraphale appeared in the doorway around the same time that she reached the front door. He ignored the Antichrist for a minute catching her eye instead. There was a sadness in his eyes that made her uneasy. He must have heard from the staff what had happened. Crowley only hoped that he didn’t believe that she had also had an affair with Mr. Dowling. 

“Brother Francis do you believe in Santa?” Aziraphale finally looked down to the child in front of him, a smile spreading across his face. Crowley could tell that it didn’t quite reach his eyes. 

“Of course Warlock. I’ve seen him.” Crowley raised an eyebrow at him but he ignored her. 

“You have, when?” Warlock was jumping up and down with excitement “see I told you nanny.” 

“A couple years ago, he was right here on the grounds, left hoof prints all over the place.” 

Crowley crossed her arms glaring daggers at him from behind her dark glasses, it was one thing to get Warlock into Christmas activities and another altogether to make up stories. 

“I want to stay up and see Santa.” Crowley mouthed ‘see what you’ve done’ from behind the Antichrist. 

“Santa can’t drop off your presents if you’re awake.” 

“But I want to see him.” 

“We can ask your parents if you can visit him at the mall.” Crowley said hoping that would be enough to change the direction of the conversation. It seemed to do the trick because he didn’t bring it up again, instead focusing on building a snowman. Aziraphale joined them, standing close enough to her that he could speak quietly and she would still hear him. 

“I’m really sorry Crowley.” 

“It’s only a job angel. No need to get emotional.” 

“Still, I know how much he means to you.” 

“This was going to happen eventually. Better now really, then when he’s older.” She stood firm eyes on the Antichrist in question and not on the angel next to her. She didn’t dare turn to look at him for fear of doing something she would regret. 

Then she felt his hand brush hers, it was feather light and it only lasted a second before it was gone again. She spun around to look at him properly as if to confirm that that was what had happened and not something made up in her mind. He ignored her eyes now firmly on the snowman, hands twisting in front of him. Crowley wondered what he would do if she grabbed his hand and pulled them apart. 

“I think I’m going to resign too, after Christmas.” 

“What! Why would you do that when you’ll have a chance to influence him all on your own. You know Hell wont be able to send someone to replace me right away. It will be the perfect chance to turn him more towards the light. And we both know how much he needs that.” As if to emphasise her point Warlock smashed the snowman over, laughing.

“Crowley, we agreed to be godfathers together. It wouldn’t be the same without you.” Normally she would have called him out on using her name but she found the words caught in her throat. This wasn’t how their conversations were supposed to go, it was far too close to admitting something. It made the optimism that she had always possessed rear it’s hopeful head, she made sure to squash it down. He was just being nice because it was almost Christmas and he was a good person, or angel, whatever. 

“That’s foolish, you should at least think about staying.” Finally he turned to look at her as if trying to read her through her dark glasses. 

“Crowley.” 

Warlock ran over interrupting them with armfuls of snow. “Look I’m making the snowman fly.” He then proceeded to throw the snow into the air, where it predictably came apart before falling back to the ground. A large amount of it managed to come down on both of them in the process. 

“Warlock what did I say about throwing snow at people?” 

“Only do it when their backs turned.”

After that she had no choice but to escort the Antichrist back into the house to warm him up, Aziraphale watched her go. Eyes burning into her back and making it harder not to turn around. She had gone down this road before and every single time she had misread the signs to disastrous outcomes. The most memorable being the time when she had thought he was leaning in to kiss her and had eagerly wrapped her arms around him, only to find that he was actually reaching for something right behind her. She had been so embarrassed that she had run from the room. This was no different; he was just being nice because he was an angel. She certainly wasn’t nice and therefore misread the signs. 

When they got inside Warlock ran to Harriet begging to go to the mall and see Santa in person. He was still soaking wet and Harriet glared at Crowley as if it was her fault that a six year old liked playing in the snow. 

“We can’t go to the mall Warlock, we simply don’t have time. Not with your father gone, leaving me to finish everything on my own for the big Christmas dinner.” 

“But I want to make sure he got my letter.” 

“You sent him a letter?” 

“Yes I asked fo-” 

“I wanted to help him improve his writing and thought it would be a good place to start.” Crowley said doing her best to make her voice even. 

“I’m sure your letter is more than sufficient. Now take him upstairs and get him cleaned up, he’s dripping all over the floor.” 

Warlock wouldn’t drop the subject of Santa for the rest of the day, if Crowley were being philosophical about it she would say it was a way of coping when his parents were being unbearable. Hopefully Mr. Dowling’s infidelity didn’t end in a divorce. 

“I want to stay up tomorrow night so I can see Santa.” 

“For the six hundred and sixty sixth time, No.” 

“But you said I’m going to be the King of the world, so why not? If I was really King then I would be able to do whatever I want.” This was yelled so loudly that her ears promptly started to ring in protest. Normally she would commend him for his poor behaviour and give him sweets as a reward. For whatever reason this time she opted to yell at him in retaliation. Later she would blame it on her conversation with Aziraphale or the fact that she only had a couple days left with him. Either way she chose that exact moment to let him know that she was leaving in a few days, and was this really the way he wanted to behave. 

Warlock was suitably devastated, tears streaming down his cheeks, all the fight from moments before completely gone. “You're lying!” 

“Why in Hell’s name would I lie about something like that.” She tried to wipe his eyes but he shoved her away. “You're a big boy now Warlock, you don’t need a nanny.” 

“Go away!” He then proceeded to throw himself onto his bed burying his head in the pillows. Crowley knew that meant ‘I need to be left alone’ and she obliged. Warlock would seek her out when he had calmed down. 

She only had to wait an hour in her room before he came running. Tiny arms pulled her tightly to him as he pushed his face into her. When Crowley had accepted this job or rather been given orders to do it, she had never for a moment believed that she would become so attached. A good demon, or rather a bad demon would tell him that he was going to be the most powerful person on earth and therefore there was no need to cry. He was certainly destined for better things then a mere demon nanny. Instead she pulled him into her arms, hands running through his hair and patting his back. 

“I’m sorry Warlock.” 

He insisted on staying in her room with her that night, just how he had years ago when he had bad night terrors. 

“If I see Santa tomorrow night I’m going to demand that he let you stay.” He whispered before finally drifting off to sleep. Crowley really wished that Aziraphale hadn’t encouraged the whole Santa thing with that ridiculous story. 

The following day Warlock wouldn’t let her out of his sight even when he was playing video games he insisted that she sit next to him. They ate together and played board games, Crowley had tried to get Warlock interested in Monopoly or Risk because they were full of terrible morals and encouraged greed and wrath. Warlock was determined to only play Life. This was the third go round and Crowley was currently stuck with a husband and two sets of twins. 

“Your car is full, nanny.” Warlock laughed when she shoved a couple more blue and pink pegs in the back. Crowley merely grumbled, she knew she had as good as lost this round. And why one earth did her mind have to keep supplying images of Aziraphale and the sort of equivalent domestic life they could have together. It was downright distracting and not at all becoming of a demon. 

They finally had to stop for dinner at six when Warlock was whisked away to eat with his grumpy miserable parents. Crowley did feel bad leaving him alone with them. It was clear that they were going to be nothing but a poor example for him growing up. Though that was probably the reason they were chosen in the first place. God chose a poor middle eastern woman to raise Her son and Lucifer chose rich Americans that were no longer on speaking terms. 

After their dinner was over Crowley did her best to get Warlock down for bed. He was still heaven bent on staying up the whole night in order to see Santa Claus. Which meant she found herself once again spending the night with him in his room, at least until he fell asleep. That finally happened around ten thirty. Gently she slipped out of the bed and crept to the door which opened silently with a little demonic miracle. She was just making her way to her own room when she heard something downstairs. 

Normally she would have assumed it was just one of the staff sneaking off to some rendezvous but they had all gone home for Christmas. Even the butler had been given the day off. Her first thought was Anne, she was the type to not leave well enough alone. Crowley decided that it was her duty to therefore go investigate and give the former cook a piece of her mind. What if she ended up waking up Warlock with all that racked. 

Crowley made it down just three stairs before stopping, mouth hanging open in what was surely a very silly expression. There in the living room stood a man that looked like Santa. Pausing her dissent down the stairs she stuck out her tongue, smelling the air. One whiff was all she needed to know without a doubt that it was in fact just Aziraphale. What on earth was he doing dressed like that on Christmas? She found herself stomping down the rest of the stairs to give him a piece of her mind. He couldn’t just sneak into the main house like that. What if one of the Dowling’s saw him. 

“Angel” she growled at his back. He turned at the sound of her voice, making her breath catch in her throat. He looked radiant with a beard and longer white blonde curls. The little spectacles that he normally used for reading were on the tip of his nose, as if to finish the look. She could feel herself heat up at the sparkle in his eyes. She coughed trying to regain some sense of control over the situation, unfortunately that’s when a six year old ran past her straight into Aziraphale’s arms. 

“I told you nanny. Santa’s here.” He shouted, making her wince and use another demonic miracle to make sure Harriet and Thaddeus remained asleep. “Did you bring me what I asked for?” 

“Yes of course.” Aziraphale answered, before placing the large sack of gifts on the floor in order to go through it. “I really liked the art you included with it.” He finally found what he was looking for because he pulled out a present that she recognised right away as the Elsa doll that they had bought for him. 

“Thanks Santa!” Warlock jumped up and down before hugging Aziraphale tightly. “Can I ask you for one more thing?” 

“Of course.” 

"Can you make it so that nanny stays here with me forever?" 

Aziraphale looked at Crowley sadly before crouching down to be at eye-level with Warlock. "I'm afraid I don't have the power to do that, Warlock. You will just have to cherish the time that you had with her and make the most of the last couple days. I'm sure she will miss you just as much as you will miss her." He added looking at Crowley who nodded in agreement. "Now how about you open your gift." 

Warlock looked solemn before his excitement took over and he ripped into the paper throwing it in scattered pieces all around himself. When the doll underneath was revealed he screamed so loud that Crowley was grateful for her earlier insight in making sure his parents wouldn’t be waking up. 

“She’s beautiful, look you can brush her hair and change which dress she’s wearing.” Warlock explained to Aziraphale, who looked down at him with such love that Crowley felt herself shift anxiously from one foot to the other. For some reason her mind was supplying her with images of what it would be like if Warlock was just theirs. That ridiculous game of Life earlier had really gotten to her head. “I left out milk and cookies for you.” Warlock said pointing in the direction of the coffee table. He had started opening the doll and lost all interest in Santa for the time being. 

Aziraphale being Aziraphale gladly headed for the milk and cookies. Crowley watched him eat two and then drink some milk in silence. Her mind was running a million miles an hour and she didn’t know where to even start. 

“Thank you Warlock. Merry Christmas.” Aziraphale said before giving him a hug goodbye and heading for the chimney. Crowley couldn’t pull her eyes away from the sight of the angel using a miracle in order to disappear partway through the fireplace. Well that was something she never thought she would see. 

“Come on Warlock, time for bed.” 

“But I want to play with Elsa.” 

“You got to see Santa, and open her, now it’s time for bed.” 

“I'm sorry he couldn't make it so you could stay.”

"That's all right Warlock." 

Crowley helped him up the stairs and tucked him into bed with Elsa held tightly to his side. She only had to wait a couple minutes for him to fall back asleep. Then she stormed back down the stairs and out the front door intent on reaching the cottage and giving Aziraphale a piece of her mind. Who was he to show up dressed as Santa in the middle of the night when anyone could see. She had certainly gotten an eye full, and wasn’t at all comfortable with how it had made her feel. 

She pounded on the door until it was pulled open under her fists. At least the man shaped being on the other side was Aziraphale again and not Santa Claus. “What in Hell’s name were you thinking?” 

“Well, I was rather hoping to give Warlock the chance to have some magic in his life. He could certainly use it this year.” 

“The Dowling’s could have seen you! Do you think they would really be okay with an elderly gentleman sneaking into their house and giving their son presents?” 

“Well no. But I didn’t do it for them. I did it for Warlock.” 

“Foolish angel. If I wasn’t there they would have woken up because of all the wracked.” 

“Don’t you start. This was your idea to start with. You said to focus on Christmas and being good. Now Warlock knows that being good brings its own kinds of rewards.” 

“You mean being good brings you more things.” 

“Be cynical all you want, but for one night Warlock believed in magic and was given a gift he didn’t think he was allowed to have. He also used it to ask for more time with you.” Aziraphale went to shut the door but she shoved her foot in the way, causing it to slam on her. Damn, she wasn’t wearing shoes, why didn’t she have the foresight to be wearing shoes? She must have yelled out in pain because Aziraphale looked suitably horrified as he ushered her into the cottage. 

“Crowley are you all right?” He asked as he gently helped her down onto the couch, inspecting her foot for any sign of damage. 

“Yes, it’s nowhere near as painful as the last time I came to save you.” She meant it in jest but his face twisted into a grimace as he pulled his hands away. 

“Right, of course.” Aziraphale said, suddenly becoming very interested in his own hands as he twisted his signet ring. 

“Hey, I didn’t mean-.” She trailed off not really sure what to say, she just didn’t want him to look so dejected. 

“I know Crowley. It’s quite alright.” He at least looked up at her doing his best to smile, but she could tell that he was still thinking about that night at the Bastille. 

“Well, best be off.” She announced getting to her feet and stubbornly ignoring the pain. She made it all the way to the door before he called out to her. “What is it now?” She felt the air shift and suddenly felt strange wearing a simple black nightgown and robe. She was painfully under dressed for someone who had always prided themselves for their clothes. 

“I’m sorry.” Aziraphale said simply, “for hurting your feet.” 

Crowley blinked in confusion, the air still felt thick and she poked out her tongue again to taste it. She expected it to be the same as before, but what she found instead was heady and thick. Lust? That couldn’t be right. 

“No need to apologise.” She whispered, everything was screaming at her to reach out and just kiss him. Until the words that always haunted her came back in full force ‘you go too fast for me.’ “Goodnight angel.” She nodded noting the way that his face fell as she stepped back towards the door. She was just about to make the very unfun trip back through the snow when she thought of something that could be used as an excuse. It was incredibly silly, and probably something that had been used by many different desperate people this time of year, but it was all she had. With that in mind a piece of mistletoe magically found its way above her head. It was so incredibly cheesy that she instantly regretted it. She was ready to run back to the safety of her own room when Aziraphale finally reached out, grabbing her hand. 

“It is tradition Crowley.” He said before placing a hand on her cheek and kissing her softly on the lips.


	6. Chapter 6

Crowley’s mind was spinning as the kiss took a turn from tender to something much deeper. It was unlike anything she had ever felt before, something comparable only to her memories of her time in Heaven. It was the light and warmth of the love that had surrounded her and given her a purpose. It was the multitude of colours that had slipped through her fingers and spun into whole galaxies. It was the feeling of knowing without doubt, that this was right, this was where she was supposed to be. Then he started to pull away, breath tickling her face, making her come crashing back to reality. She didn’t like it and wrapped her arms around him pulling him back to her. Let them be close like this for just a little bit longer. 

She took a deep breath and shifted slightly to bring them even tighter together. It felt so natural and so right, winding herself around him, constructing him. Perhaps a little too tightly if the noise he made was any indication. Crowley sighed, shifting away and rubbing the front of his trousers in the process. 

“Angel?” For once Aziraphale was silent though his face was flushed and his eyes were frantically looking everywhere except her face. She reasoned she had two options, to either continue down this path or to put a stop to it before anything too salacious could happen. Reluctantly she chose the second option and stepped further away. “Well, uh, I suppose I should get back.” She gestured vaguely in the direction of the estate. 

“Just once, can’t hurt. Right?” He was twisting his hands again, just like he always did when he was nervous. 

“No. No, can’t hurt.” 

“Exactly, the humans already believe that something is going on anyway. We would be merely proving them correct. And only once of course.” 

“Of course. Wouldn’t need to do it more than once.” 

Aziraphale finally looked up at her and that was it, they were kissing again. This time there was no tender start; it was straight to the deep passion that she had so desperately wanted. The sensation was so distracting that she could feel scales winding their way up her neck. Her tongue became much more serpent-like as she pushed it into the angel’s mouth. He moaned at the feeling, grabbing her head and pulling it even closer. She let her hands run down his chest as she tried to pry the buttons open. There were always so many buttons. After a couple valent attempts she had to pull away in order to see what she was doing. Aziraphale merely watched her as her shaking hands pulled them loose one by one. At least he wasn’t wearing his typical waistcoat as well. When she was finally done she couldn’t resist the temptation of running her hands over the newly exposed skin. Aziraphale looked transfixed as she ran her palms over his nipples. That seemed to do the trick as he started to kiss down her neck leading to the top of her robe. While she was distracted he slipped the robe off her shoulders and then the thin straps of her nightgown. 

Crowley stepped away in order to properly pull it over her head. He looked properly enthralled now. “Can we perhaps take this to the bedroom? I’m sick of standing near the door.” She aimed for light and teasing but instead landed somewhere between cracked and desperate. Not a good look. 

“Oh. Yes of course. Sorry I should have. Let me lead the way.” And with that Aziraphale spun on his heels so fast she was worried he would fall over. 

She followed him to the tiny room with a bed in it as well as more books. He actually started to set them down gently on the floor in neat stacks before realising that they could just miracle them into a different room. Once the books were taken care of Crowley eyed the bed critically. It wasn’t very large and it looked uncomfortable, so she snapped her fingers and watched as it changed into more of the type of bed she was used to. 

She smiled at Aziraphale, who was still wearing far too much clothing in comparison to her near nudity. So she laid across the bed getting comfortable before announcing what they must both be thinking. “Are you going to join me?” She patted the bed for good measure. 

Finally catching on he slipped his shoes and socks off before laying next to her. She had been hoping the trousers would have been removed as well, but perhaps he wasn’t quite ready. 

They awkwardly eyed each other for a couple more minutes until she couldn’t stand it any longer and grabbed his hand placing it over her breast. He looked surprised for a moment but then squeezed ever so gently before pulling back and running the pads of his fingers over the nipple. Crowley pushed herself closer in encouragement, and he smiled at her as he repeated the action, this time with her other breast. 

She waited enjoying the tingling sensations for a couple more minutes before reaching out for his belt and undoing it as well as she could. She managed to get to the buttons before he covered her hands with his own. She froze, hoping she hadn’t over stepped. Maybe he was having second thoughts? This was it he was about to accuse her of going too fast and that would be it. She waited on baited breath as he pulled back standing once more and just when she thought for sure he was going to ask her to leave he took his trousers off. He did so with his back to her and then proceeded to fold them neatly before placing them on top of a stack of books. Once that was done he made his way back to her, laying out along the bed once more, only now they were both only wearing their underwear. Crowley couldn’t help but take in the now nearly naked angel next to her. She let her hands run over his legs and lovely thighs before stopping. He nodded biting his lip. Well that was all the permission she needed, as she slid her hand up higher still. He was panting as she touched him over his pants. 

“Crowley.” He said, already sounding so wrecked. She couldn’t resist dragging herself closer so that she was pressed right up against his side. He turned back towards her, capturing her mouth once more. Crowley slipped her hand under the waistband while he was distracted with their kisses. He made a slightly affronted noise before that too turned into a moan as she moved her hand. He was shaking, and it was her doing. Never had she felt so powerful, at least until he slipped his own hand into her underwear. His fingers slipped over her and she couldn’t help but fling her legs further apart. 

“Angel.” She whispered as he moved his fingers faster. How was she so close already? Hadn’t they just started? 

He stopped abruptly in order to slip her underwear off, quickly followed by his own. Then he was on her again, hand continuing where it had left off. Crowley was seriously starting to wonder just how long he had wanted to do this. It would seem she wasn’t the only one after all. When she finally hit her peak she shook uncontrollably coating his fingers in the process. After that he pulled away, looking shocked by what had just happened. 

“Ziraphale, please don’t stop there.” 

“You want me to-” 

“Yesss.”

And that was how she found herself finally being pushed down into the mattress by the angel. He was moaning and saying all manner of things that would be forgotten as soon as they were said. She held him close, wrapping her legs around him in order to hold them together. He kissed her neck as he moved impossibly faster. Crowley let herself enjoy the taste of the air and the feeling of being pushed over towards the edge once more. If this was all she got then she would be happy because it was far more than she had ever thought possible. When Aziraphale did come apart above her she made sure to open her eyes and take in all the details she could. The sight was enrapturing, and so lovely that her own orgasm took her by surprise. 

“Sorry I must be crushing you.” Aziraphale said as he hurried to get up and off her, if she still had control over her limbs she would have held him in place. “Well, that was lovely.” 

“Please stop talking and come back.” 

“Do you wish to spend the night then?” Crowley answered his question with a kiss. She wished she could keep him like this forever. Just the two of them on their own side with no interruptions or reports to fill out. 

“Maybe next time, you could be on top, as it were.” Aziraphale said when they separated once more. Crowley was too surprised to say anything right away, they had said this was a one time thing and now he wanted more. Once could be considered a fluke twice on the other hand, well, it made her feel excited. It could be his way of saying he wanted the same thing, to be on their own side. Or alternatively it could just mean that he liked sex and wanted to do it again. Yes that was probably more likely. Either way Crowley would gladly agree, anything to spend more time with her angel, anything to make him happy. 

She must have been too quiet because he was getting that nervous look in his eye again, hands fiddling twisting his signet ring. It had an altogether different look now that he was completely naked. Like somehow he was more vulnerable. “That is to say, I know we said just once, so maybe once is enough. Wouldn’t want our respective sides to find out after all. Yes, perhaps just once was enough.” 

“No!” Wow, that came out louder then intended but it got the job done because he was finally looking up at her again. 

“No?” 

“I mean I would like to do it again” and again and again. “Whatever you want angel.” 

“Oh, well in that case I don’t see why we can’t add it to the arrangement. Especially if the world might end in five years.” It wasn’t exactly what she wanted, but it was still more than she had ever expected. Still there was something off putting about just viewing what they had just done as merely a part of some arrangement. Crowley wanted so much more, she wanted simple mornings, and late nights and endless days of nothing but the two of them. None of these desires were supposed to be things that a demon should want. The overpowering feeling of love that accompanied it made it all the more incriminating. 

“Yeah, sure. Add it to the arrangement.” He smiled at her but still looked troubled so she grabbed his hand pulling him under the blankets. Sleep, right now that’s all she wanted. Oh and perhaps one other thing she snapped her fingers cleaning them both up. Aziraphale made a shocked noise next to her. But he couldn’t have minded too terribly because he pressed a kiss to her forehead. 

Crowley woke the following morning alone in the bed but she could smell coffee and hear the sounds of Aziraphale puttering around the kitchen. Wasn’t all some dream then, it really happened. She pushed her way out from under the blankets before heading towards the smell of coffee, not bothering to find her nightgown. It had been lost in the stacks of books and unlikely to be easily found without the assistance of a miracle. Aziraphale said nothing at her sudden appearance but his face did turn a bright shade of red before he trained his eyes to the floor. 

“You saw it all last night angel.” She pointed out before jumping up onto the counter, it was cold and hard on her backside but it was worth it to see his horror. 

“Crowley, get off the counter. Honestly, how many times do I have to tell you that counters are for food and not sitting.”

“You mean books.” 

“That too. Now are you going to put some clothes on?” Well that did it, any confidence that she might have had after last night was dashed. Of course he didn’t want to see her like this unless they were about to fool around. 

“Right. Sorry.” She snapped her fingers and was instantly covered with one of her favourite blouses and fitted trousers, even her hair pulled itself up into place atop her head. “Better?” 

“I didn’t mean. I liked you before. It’s just that I was about to eat.” 

“You could have eaten something else.” In her defence she had said it without thinking. 

“You mean?” His eyes were the size of saucers as they moved from her face down to her trousers and back again. 

“Yeah, but go ahead and have your breakfast.” With that she slid off the counter. No point pushing her luck. 

“We could do that first. It’s only, well, when do they expect you back at the main house?” 

“Probably now. But screw them it’s Christmas.”

“Are you quite sure?” 

“I already got fired angel” 

That was all the convincing needed to get him to pull her trousers and underwear back off and promptly eat her out. Crowley was grateful the cottage was so far away from the main estate because otherwise it would be very clear just what the soon to be ex-nanny was getting up to. After what must be her third climax she had to pull his head away. “Sensitive.” 

He merely looked pleased and she couldn’t resist lifting his face up in order to kiss it. The taste of herself there made her head spin with a possessiveness so strong that it caught her off guard. It was the sort of feeling that made her want to sacrifice anything and everything in the service of keeping him safe and with her. Just the two of them, that’s all she wanted, all she had ever wanted really.

When they pulled apart she did her best to get down without falling over on shaky legs. “Do you want me to?” She eyed the tent in his trousers. 

“Only if there’s time. I know Warlock will be missing you, it is your last Christmas together after all.” She sighed knowing he was right, but undid his trousers anyway. It’s not like it would take long, and she wanted to take every opportunity she could get. Especially if everything ended after she left the Dowling's. As much as Aziraphale had said they could add it to the arrangement, she knew things could change. He might have meant only for the time being and then things would go back to the way they were. 

Above her he made all matter of ridiculous noises and more praises that seemed unearned of a demon but made her feel unreasonably happy anyway. She would have kept going if his hands hadn’t slowly made their way into her perfect hair. “You're ruining my hair.” 

“Sorry dear, I’m just really close.” 

“Just keep your hands to yourself.” She huffed before getting back to where she had left off. Sure enough it only took a couple more deep sucks with her unhinged jaw for him to cum, her name slipping from his lips. 

“Well I should be getting back. I’ll take the coffee to go.” Crowley stood up admiring the flushed face of her angel. He looked properly seen too and it made her unreasonably giddy, and wasn’t that just the strangest feeling. 

After pouring her coffee she nearly told him she loved him by way of goodbye but caught herself just in time. No need to scare him right off. 

After their goodbyes Crowley finally made her way back to the main house with an extra spring to her steps despite the snow. It was eleven when she finally made it to the main living room where the Dowling's were currently seated. Thaddeus was on his phone and Harriet was trying to pull the Elsa doll out of Warlock’s arms. 

“Don’t you want to play with one of your other toys?” Harriet sounded desperate and Crowley wondered how long she had been at it. 

“No. I want to play with Elsa.” Warlock then proceeded to take off running with the doll, he must have spotted Crowley mid run because he turned abruptly and ran towards her instead. “Remember Santa nanny, mommy doesn't believe I really saw him last night. But you saw him too.” 

Harriet finally noticed her and put her hands on her hips, she looked murderous and Crowley wondered if it was due to the idea of a stranger in the house or just the stress of the dinner party she would be hosting. “You saw Santa too?” 

“Yes, is that not who left the presents and stockings?” Harriett seemed to at least relax after that taking her seat back on the couch and grabbing her mug. Crowley was sure it was more rum than eggnog. They both watched Warlock run off with Elsa, and Harriett let out a long dramatic sigh next to her in exasperation. “I don’t know how that doll got mixed in with the rest of the gifts but I’m never going to be able to get it away from him now.” 

“No you probably won't.”

“And where have you been? I thought you would be up with him, seeing as it is your last Christmas with us.” 

Crowley could of course lie and tell her she had merely overslept but the idea of making her uncomfortable after everything she had put her through was just too tempting. “I spent the night at the cottage.” 

“The cottage? You mean with Brother Francis?” Harriet looked horrified at the concept which made Crowley angry. Sure Aziraphale might look ridiculous but he was still her angel and no one was allowed to insult him. 

“Yes, who else.” 

“I suppose it all really was just a rumour then.” 

“Of course it was.” And then because she could she added “Your husband is a boorish brute.” Well that shut her up.


	7. Chapter 7

Aziraphale hadn’t originally been invited to the Dowling's fancy dinner party but that all changed when Mrs. Dowling dropped by unexpectedly. She all but demanded he show up since Ashtoreth was going. “It wouldn’t do to have her there and not you, seeing as the two of you are… well you know.” 

And just like that he was welcomed into the main house for a fancy Christmas dinner. Every other year he had enjoyed the leftovers which were always divine. So he was quite looking forward to trying everything when it was fresh out of the oven. 

Normally he would dress in his best waistcoat for an occasion like this but he wasn’t sure how in character well fitted dress clothes were. In the end he settled for a white dress shirt under a thick wool sweater and tan trousers. That way it would be somewhere in between his personal style and the typical clothes of Brother Francis. 

He trudged through the snow happily thinking of the previous night, and how peaceful Crowley had looked tucked into his side sound asleep. He had enjoyed the whole experience of course but he could admit to himself that his favourite part had been how happy Crowley had looked. She had radiated pure joy and contentment in a way that he had never seen before. On the surface he would assume that was due to her enjoyment of the sex itself. She was a demon and therefore it was reasonable to think that she had enjoyed that sort of thing with a great number of people in the past. A much deeper part of him was convinced it all meant something far more incriminating to both of them. Love, that is what he had felt. It had been unmistakable and all consuming in a way that he had never experienced before. He had of course felt love in many different forms throughout his existence but none of it had ever been focused so completely on him and him alone. Aziraphale knew that it had to be coming from Crowley; there was simply no other explanation for it. But demons couldn’t feel love and they certainly couldn’t love others. At least that’s what he had believed before last night. Now he wasn’t so sure. Crowley had always seemed like an exception to the rule of what a typical demon was like but this was much farther than anything he thought possible. 

When he finally reached the large front doors he did his best to push his worries aside. He should really just try to enjoy Christmas dinner, after all the world was still headed toward Armageddon.

“Brother Francis? I didn’t know that you were invited.” The butler said upon seeing him enter the front doors.

“Mrs. Dowling invited me today.” He nearly lost his fake accent and the butler raised his brow at him. 

“Well, you know your way around.” He said waving Aziraphale off before opening the door for the much better dressed guests behind him. 

He made his way to the sitting room, mind still on demons and whether or not it was truly possible for them to feel love. He was so lost in his own thoughts that he walked right into a woman causing her to spill her drink. 

“Watch where you're going.”

“Sorry.” She looked ready to start accosting him very loudly when Crowley swooped in and intervened. 

“There you are Francis. I was just starting to wonder what was keeping you.” The woman eyed them before deciding it wasn’t worth it and heading into the center of the sitting room. “Would you like a drink?” 

“Oh yes, that sounds lovely.” Crowley sighed dramatically but there was no heat behind it, if anything he would categorise it as fond. 

They ended up seated together near the back wine glasses in hand and no one paying them any mind. Aziraphale assumed to the rest of the guests they were just two people that were lucky to get an invite at all. 

“I promised Warlock I would go play with him after dinner.” 

“That’s sweet of you.” Crowley opened her mouth to argue before changing her mind and merely huffing her displeasure. “You can come too, if you’d like.” 

“I would love to.” He said as he slipped his hand around her’s, without thinking. As soon as he did his mind started racing. Was that okay? Could they do that now? Surely here it would be okay, at least until they both left the Dowling’s house. Crowley squeezed his hand and gave him a secret smile. So it was okay then. “I don’t suppose you know why I was invited tonight?” 

“I spoke with Harriett,” when he made a face she added “nothing bad. I merely told her that you were dear to me and I had hoped to have Christmas dinner with you.” Crowley’s voice was flat but the blush high on her cheeks gave away just how much it must have meant to her. He wanted to wrap his arms around her, to shower her with affection and feel that blinding all consuming love radiate off of her. Instead he pressed a kiss to her cheek. Mrs. Dowling walked by and made a face at them. 

“I would like to speak with both of you after dinner, if that’s okay?”

“Of course Mrs. Dowling.” Aziraphale said at the same time Crowley said “I promised to spend as much time with Warlock as possible after dinner.” 

“It won't take long.” 

“Fine, after dinner then.” Satisfied with Crowley’s answer Mrs. Dowling addressed the room inviting everyone to the dining room where dinner was about to be served. 

Aziraphale admired the long table decorated with candles and Christmas crackers, even without all the food it looked lovely. Once everyone was seated they pulled their crackers and looked over the tiny gifts inside. Crowley got a tiny bowling set and he got a puzzle. Why anyone would need such things he didn’t know, perhaps it was another invention by Crowley. She was the type to make something loud and full of things that would just end up being thrown out right after it was opened. 

The dinner itself was delicious and he knew that he must be thoroughly enjoying it based on the looks Crowley was giving him. She barely touched her own food she was so intent on him instead. Had she always watched him eat like that or was it just because he was making similar noises to the ones he had been making that morning? He’s face heated up at the thought and he made a conscious effort to stop being so vocal. 

Once dinner was finished Mrs. Dowling came around and asked them to meet her in the office. In this case it was actually an office, just one typically used by her husband. The door was barely closed behind them before she broke down wrapping an arm around each of them and pulling them closer. 

“I’m sorry. It’s just been a really hard year, not that that’s an excuse. Certainly not for the way that I treated you Ashtoreth.” Mrs. Dowling realised them and then collapsed on the couch sobbing into her hands. Crowley gave him a look and he knew they were thinking the same thing. 

“Are you and Thaddeus getting a divorce?” Crowley asked. 

“No. It would look terrible if the American ambassador went through a divorce.” Crowley sat herself next to Mrs. Dowling wrapping her arms around her and whispering something into her ear that Aziraphale couldn’t make out. Whatever she said it must have cheered her up because she stopped crying. 

“We will manage. We have through everything else that’s come our way.” 

“I’m sure you will.” Crowley said before handing her a black tissue. 

“I suppose I should get to the reason for why I wanted to talk to you both. It’s nothing bad. I just wanted to let you both know that if you want to continue working here then I would be more than happy to keep you on. I know I was the one that fired you in the first place Ashtoreth, but if you want to stay in order to remain close to Brother Francis then you can. You could even move into the cottage with him if you like.” 

Aziraphale couldn’t help but imagine what that would be like, just the two of them living together and tending to the grounds while they helped raise the Antichrist. It wasn’t too dissimilar to what he had imagined when he had first thought of them being godparents. But something like that wasn’t really possible, no matter how much he may want it to be. Hell was already planning on sending someone new and if Heaven found out that he was living with a demon as humans did then they would both be in trouble. 

“I’m afraid I was planning on resigning as well Mrs. Dowling. It has been lovely working here and getting to spend time with Warlock and Ms Ashtoreth but I think it’s time we moved onto something new.” Crowley flinched at his words closing in on herself but Mrs. Dowling seemed to appreciate his answer. 

“Well if the two of you ever decide to get married then make sure to invite us, we would love to come.” And just like that she hugged them both before dismissing them in order to fix her makeup. 

Aziraphale tried to talk to Crowley on their way to Warlock’s room but she ignored him the whole way up the stairs. Had he said something wrong? He must have, though he felt clueless as to what. They had talked about this, it was time for them to get back to their old lives. He missed his bookshop and he was sure Crowley must miss her Mayfair flat and her old life. 

“Nanny!” Warlock yelled before launching himself at Crowley who caught him in a tight hug. “Come play with Elsa with me.” 

“Of course darling.” 

Aziraphale watched them play for a short time before Warlock dragged him into the game. He was told that he was some man by the name of Kristof and Crowley was to be someone named Anna. They were then directed in scene’s that he assumed must be from the movie that Warlock was so interested in. The game continued for a good couple hours before it was time for Warlock to go to bed. Crowley tucked him in and then made her way to her own room, still ignoring him completely. 

“Crowley, is everything alright?” 

“Everything’s fine angel. Why wouldn’t it be, you're happy I’m happy. We both get to go back to the way things were, as it should be. Right?” 

“Well yes. I merely meant you seemed upset. Did you want to stay here longer?” 

“No. Why in Hell’s name would you think that? Warlock certainly doesn't need a nanny anymore, and you wouldn’t want me in your way. It’s for the best angel.” 

“Yes, well, if you would like you can spend the night in the cottage again. Since we are both planning on leaving I don’t see how one more night can hurt.” 

“No, you wouldn’t, would you?” Crowley said before storming into her room and slamming the door in his face. 

“Goodnight Crowley.” He said to the closed door. 

The next couple days were full of packing and saying his goodbyes to the rest of the staff. He had barely caught a glimpse of Crowley or Warlock until he was waiting for his cab and they came to say their goodbyes. At least that’s what he thought until he noticed the black suitcase Crowley was dragging along behind her. 

“Come on angel, I’ll give you a ride.” She said when she got closer. Warlock was in tears as he loaded their things into the boot of the Bentley. Crowley was doing her best to console him. 

“Just because we're moving away doesn't mean we won't see you again. Just remember you're the Great Prince and anything that you want will one day be yours.” Aziraphale watched her hug him goodbye one last time before wiping his tears away and kissing his cheek. The sight was so sweet that he couldn’t even object to the bad message behind her words. 

“Bye young Warlock. I know you will remember what I taught you on the importance of kindness and showing compassion for all God’s creatures big and small.” 

“Yes of course Brother Francis. Take care of nanny, I know she really likes you.” Before he could inquire what he meant by that he was being hugged tightly. 

They waved from the Bentley as Crowley drove off much slower than normal. 

Aziraphale made sure to wait until they were a good distance away before changing his appearance back. He certainly wouldn’t miss the teeth or mutton chops. 

“I guess that's it then.” Crowley said next to him, now wearing his more typical clothes. “Back to the way things were.” 

“Pull over Crowley.” He looked surprised but did as directed without comment. 

Aziraphale made sure to wait until the car engine had been shut off before pulling him into a deep kiss. It was just as lovely as the first time, and the radiant love that he had felt on Christmas night was starting to hum back to life. 

The sky outside was getting dark when Crowley pushed him into the backseat before climbing on top of him. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted this.” He hissed into Aziraphale’s ear before kissing down his neck and under his jaw. Aziraphale found himself resorting to just holding on for dear life as his shirt was pulled down in order to give Crowley more access. He felt light headed and warm with the comfortable weight holding him down. His hands ended up settling on Crowley’s arse which was something that he had wanted to do for far too long. The movement pushed them closer together and caused them to rub together in a way that had him making more obscene noises. Crowley pulled back enough to give him a wicked smile before redoubling his efforts. Now Aziraphale would never admit to anyone if they asked that he had gotten off in the back of a car on the side of the road. Actions like that were expected from teenagers and foolish adults not angel’s of the Lord. Yet here he was and he couldn’t really argue with just how good Crowley felt especially after he managed to get his skin tight jeans off. His own trousers were somewhere on the floor of the car in a very untidy pile and yet he was so full of that blindly bright love that he was finding it hard to care. When he closed his eyes he could see it even better, would it always like this and would he still be able to feel it long after they were finished? 

“Angel, come back to me.” Crowley’s voice drifted through his clouded thoughts pulling him back to the present and the subsequent thorough seeing too that he was receiving. 

“Crowley.” Was all he managed before he felt himself falling over that glories peak. Through his own pleasure he could feel Crowley coming apart deep inside. It was lovely and he couldn’t resist holding him closer while he shook through it. “Oh my sweet darling.” 

They laid like that catching their breath for a couple more minutes before arranging themselves back into the front seat once more. Aziraphale was annoyed to see that his clothes were all thoroughly rumpled but Crowley straightened them both with a demonic miracle. For the rest of the drive Aziraphale was acutely aware of the love that was directed his way. Now that he was aware that it was there it seemed impossible to miss. 

They reached the bookshop sooner than he liked and he thanked Crowley, still reeling at the concept of a demon that could radiate love the way that he did. Would other angels be able to feel it? Or worse would a demon find out and drag Crowley back to hell? 

“My pleasure angel.” Crowley said, he even winked before leaning in for a kiss that Aziraphale intercepted. 

“We shouldn’t. Not here.” 

Crowley’s jaw tightened but he didn’t argue. “Of course. Forgot myself.” 

“We’ll have to meet in the park soon, after I’m done getting my shop back up and running.” 

“Yeah sure.” 

Aziraphale watched as the Bentley speed off, wringing his hands. He knew he had hurt Crowley's feelings but it wasn't as if it was safe to just kiss each other where Gabriel or one of the angels could see. They would most certainly be keeping a much closer eye on earth for the next couple years and he would have to be extra careful if he was going to ensure that they didn't get caught.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading

Anne never missed work, even when she was in school her attendance was near perfect. Which is why it catches her completely off guard when she comes down with the worst cold of her life. The year is 2019 and it’s late spring so really the cold and even allergy season should be nearing its end. Yet here she is stuck in bed with a fever and a runny nose. 

She spends a couple days in bed playing mindlessly on her phone when she gets a phone call from head office. She is still working for the telemarketing company and they have never bothered to call her before. As much as she is one of the best employee’s, house calls just aren't something that they do. 

“Ms Dankworth?” 

“Yes, it’s me. I’m really sorry about missing the last couple days, I just have a terrible cold. Normally my health isn’t an issue, I promise I will be back at work as soon as possible.” 

“That won't be necessary, you see I’m actually calling you to let you know that there was a terrible accident at the branch that you work at. It appears everyone at the office perished from an unknown cause. We will be providing counselling to you if you need it.” 

Anne nearly drops her phone, everyone is dead. Even that sweet lady that would always bring in her extra baked goods and that cute man that would always help her when her headpiece acted up. It doesn't seem possible. Why does this always seem to be something that happens to her no matter where she’s working? 

“You are a good employee so if you would like to stay with the company we would be more than happy to find you a new position somewhere else. Of course we would also understand if you would like to find something else after some time off.” 

“Thank you. I think I really just need some time to myself. Can I call you back?” 

“Of course. I will give the phone number for HR and you can call whenever you feel ready.” 

Anne takes the number gratefully and then just collapses back on her bed. The world hasn’t ended, there has been no news on a new King. She has no idea what became of the Antichrist and now all her coworkers are dead. Perhaps what she needs is a vacation. She could go to the beach or she could take a trip down to Paris and see the Eiffel tower. 

In the end she gets over her life saving cold and then decides to stop by a bookshop in order to get some travel books. All the information may be online but she still likes the idea of having something she can hold and take with her. 

The bookshop she ends up visiting has a peculiar name but the door is open and there is a warm inviting feeling once she is inside. The staff must be busy because no one greets her when she starts browsing the shelves. She finds what looks like it might be a travel section just as some loud noises start up in what must be the backroom. 

“Crowley I thought you said you locked the front door behind you.” 

“Come back.” 

Anne watches the door as it opens to reveal a man in old fashioned clothes. He does his best to dust himself off before he notices her watching him. 

“Terribly sorry, but we are closed.” 

“Oh, well the door was open. I actually just need a book on Paris, you see I’m planing a trip and I really wanted something I could take with me.” The man eyes her and she can’t shake the feeling that they have met before. He certainly seems to recognise her because instead of showing her the door he directs her to a section near the back. 

“I don’t normally sell these but I think you could really use it.” He then proceeds to hand her a bible. “Oh and here, for your trip.” A book on Paris is added on top. “Enjoy your trip Anne.” 

Before she can answer or even offer to pay she is directed out the door, which closes and locks behind her. Through the window she makes out the shape of red hair and is instantly reminded of the demon nanny from years ago. It can’t be. Anne presses closer to get a better look and sure enough it is the very same demon. This must be the third time she has accidentally bumped into them. She thinks about waving but then the bookshop owner is whispering to the demon and she decides it’s best to just leave. 

Life is full of coincidences and she has a trip to plan after all.


End file.
